Little Mutt
by Adventure-Seeking-Juliet
Summary: Mutt decides he wants to be an adventurer. Drabble.


**Little Mutt**

Written by: Adventure-Seeking-Juliet

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones.

Summary: Mutt decides he wants to be an adventurer.

A/N This is a drabble I originally wrote for a creative writing class. It's a one-shot, but I have a multi-chaptered _Indiana Jones_ story in the works (along with several Star Wars stories, all centered around the father-son dynamic between either Luke and Anakin Skywalker, or Indiana and Mutt.) Please, ignore any terrible grammar mistakes. I haven't had time to edit any of this yet. Enjoy! This fic is written under the assumption that Mutt's stepfather, Colin Williams, died when he was fairly young. Marion told him his father was a hero who went on many adventures, but, as we all know, she never told Mutt _who_ exactly she was talking about.

* * *

><p>The wind whipped sand in every direction. The coarse little bits of dirt were soft and compliant underfoot, but, once they were airborne, they became tiny, painful daggers that could rub a man's face raw.<p>

A boy stood, tall and firm, against the onslaught of the burning sand. One hand was against his face, shielding his eyes from the sun, and the other was curled around a black pistol.

The boy called himself Mutt. It wasn't that he didn't have a _real _name; his mother had given him a nice, boring name that most other stuffy adults happily considered a _good, Christian name, _but it wasn't the right kind of name for an adventurer.

As Mutt stared into the distance, his fingers twitched, so he gripped the pistol tighter. His palms were sweaty, but he had a foe to face and treasure to find.

"Adventurers don't worry about sweaty palms," he muttered to himself, a bit sullenly. He wiped his empty hand on his pants leg, but he still felt sticky with sweat, and, although he wanted to believe he was just sweating because of the heat, Mutt had to admit he was nervous.

He frowned, "Adventurers don't get nervous, neither."

The kid glared accusingly at his hands, as though they had betrayed him in some way. He stared at them so long that, had anyone been watching, they would have thought Mutt was contemplating chopping off the two offending appendages and replacing them with newer, stronger hands that wouldn't sweat at all.

Luckily, no one was watching. Mutt dropped his hands down to his sides and resumed his quest. Today, the little adventurer was heading to Egypt. He was going to map the Nile, climb the pyramids, and break a mummy's curse all in one day, just like the adventurer's in his mother's stories.

"One day they'll write books about me, too," he said, "and mom will tell stories about me all the time." He paused, mid step, as a strange thought occurred to him. _If he was all grown up who would his mom tell stories to?_

Mutt decided that his mom would just have to have more kids. He'd always wanted a little brother. Maybe, his mom would find another nice adventurer man, one she liked as much as she had liked his dad, and maybe they'd buy Mutt a little brother so he could have a sidekick. All good adventurers had funny sidekicks.

With a determined grin, Mutt trudged forward. The sand had become cold against his feet, and the desert temperature was dropping rapidly. The sun was setting. Mutt might've been new to the whole _adventuring_ thing, but even he knew it was almost time to settle down for the night. Hopefully, the pyramids would still be waiting for him tomorrow.

Right on cue, his mother appeared, dressed in her casual cargo pants and her favorite, faded red blouse, "Mutt, it's time for supper. Come wash up."

"_But mom_, I haven't finished my adventure."

His mother only raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, "Even adventurers have to eat. Unless, of course, you don't want any of the cookies I made…I guess I'll just have to eat them all by myself."

Mutt gasped in horror, scrambled out of the sandbox, and raced across his backyard. He passed the jungle gym, the swing set, and his favorite toy bike without a second glance. The toys that had, just a moment ago, been the setting of his greatest adventures, were now forgotten in his haste to devour his mom's cookies and listen to more of her stories.

When he reached the porch, Marion ruffled his hair, "Next time you go on an adventure, don't leave me behind, young man!"

"You can come along whenever you want, mom, but _only_ if you bring cookies," Mutt grinned at the thought of his new idea, adventures and cookies were two of his favorite things.

His mom smiled, "You got yourself a deal, Mutt. Looks like I'm your new partner."

Mutt smiled back, "You'll always be my favorite partner, mom."

The two walked inside, and, although Mutt was tracking dirt and sand through the kitchen, Marion didn't say a word. She only smiled.

After he had sat down and filled his mouth with cookies, Mutt spoke again, "Maybe the next time we go on an adventure, we'll see my dad. He was a hero, right? We can all find treasures, fight bad guys, and eat cookies together. Won't it be great?"

"It'll be great," Marion repeated, quietly. She smiled again, but this time it didn't reach her eyes.


End file.
